If Rafe caught the sudden pitch to her tone, betraying her secret heartache, he didn’t comment, which was a good thing because the first patient had walked through the door.
Darcy put forth her best congenial smile and focused on winning over Cold Plains, one patient at a time.
Someone in this town had answers to what had happened to her mother.
And nothing was going to get in her way of finding out.
Chapter 7
In hindsight, Rafe probably should’ve given Darcy a better heads-up on what it was like to be his receptionist. By the end of the day, she looked frazzled and a bit dazed. His plan had been to politely follow her out the door and go his separate way, but his conscience pricked him into offering to take her to get a bite.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said, eyeing him warily, trying to ascertain his motivation.
He didn’t blame her. He was her boss, and how was she to know that he wasn’t the sleazy type who chased skirts from the office? He tried a smile—nothing flirty or suggestive, simply kind—and said, “You’re new in town and you probably met just about everyone from Cold Plains in the space of an eight-hour day, but you look a bit worn around the edges. I should’ve warned you that my office gets a fair amount of traffic. Dinner is the least I can do for throwing you to the wolves like that. For what it’s worth, you did a good job for your first day.”
A smile threatened and he ignored the tickle of attraction that fluttered to life. The smile that had flirted with her mouth appeared as she said, “Well, don’t go crazy with the praise just yet. I think I may have accidentally hung up on at least three patients.”
He waved away her admission. “If it was important, they’d have called back or just marched into the office. I’m sure it’s fine. So, how about that bite?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “It doesn’t seem right, you know? Small towns are notorious for gossip, and I don’t mean to start rumors myself, but I got the distinct impression a few of your patients were trying to play matchmaker.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, they asked if I was single and when I said I was, they quickly mentioned that you were single, as well.”
Rafe smothered a sigh. Samuel fancied himself a matchmaker and openly encouraged marriage and family ties. Samuel said it was because strong families were the backbone to any successful community. Rafe was a bit more cynical. He believed Samuel pushed the family angle because a single person had less to lose. If needed, loved ones provided excellent leverage.
“Let me just say this now. I’m not looking for a date or a good time. My life is my work. I don’t have time for casual or serious romantic encounters. You can rest easy. I’m not trying to butter you up for anything other than friendship.”
“I appreciate your candor,” she said, adding with a slight frown, “I think. But since I am new here and I certainly don’t want to color anyone’s opinion of me right from the start, I’m just going to go back to the hotel and order a pizza or something.”
He made a sound, and she looked at him in question. “No take-out pizza places here. I think you can get a variation of a pizza at Cold Plains Italian, but I think it’s a bit pricey for what you’re looking for. If you’re looking for a quick bite, there’s the Cold Plains Eatery with deli sandwiches and whatnot.”
“No pizza?” she murmured, frowning. “They ought to put that on the brochure for this place. So, why no pizza places? Not wholesome enough?”
He caught the subtle sarcasm. Most eager transplants to Cold Plains were delighted when they discovered how health conscious the town was and how dedicated to clean living everyone seemed. Darcy didn’t appear the average Cold Plains transplant in search of the utopia. But if she wasn’t looking for that, why would she move here? There was definitely more to the dark-haired beauty than met the eye, and in this place, that was dangerous.
As if realizing she may have revealed more about herself than she intended, she shrugged and said, “Well, that’s probably a good thing. Pizza is my secret weakness. I’m better off without the temptation.” She drew a deep breath and smiled. “Well, tomorrow morning comes bright and early. Good night, Dr. Black.”
“Good night, Darcy,” he returned, watching as she headed toward the hotel where she was staying. He didn’t care what she said, there wasn’t an ounce of extra fat on her body from too-much-pizza indulgence. Her tight waist flared to sweet hips, reminding him that he was a man with needs, even if he tried like hell to bury them. The last time he’d had sex was with Abby. It wasn’t like he was naturally celibate, but he hadn’t lied when he’d said his life was his work. Before Abby he’d concentrated on building his career. He’d been eyeing the chief of medicine position at the hospital he’d been with. After Abby had dropped her bombshell about the baby and then ended up dead, he’d been consumed with finding Devin. That left little time for personal interactions of the intimate sort. But damn, suppressing those urges would be difficult with Darcy around. There was something about her that twisted his head. Growling to himself for even thinking such thoughts, he went to his car, determined to push Darcy from his mind. She was his receptionist, nothing more.
Darcy was fairly certain she was shaking with nervous energy and not because she’d been tempted to accept Rafe’s offer of dinner. She hadn’t needed his assurances that he wasn’t looking for an easy or convenient bed partner when he’d extended the offer—somehow she doubted he was that kind of man anyway—but just hearing the words had caused all manner of inappropriate images to crowd her brain, and her own reckless reaction was troubling. There were moments when she questioned the impetuousness of her decision to leave everything behind to go on this quest for answers, but when she found herself waffling, all she had to do was remind herself that she didn’t have anyone else to watch her back, and if Samuel was dangerous, she needed to be aware of the threat. Plus, someone in this town had to know something about her birth mother. She had to believe that. Maybe she had family on her mother’s side. Maybe she wasn’t alone, after all. But she wouldn’t know if she allowed fear to make her decisions.
After spritzing her face and dusting her lashes with some mascara, she headed back out. She wanted to nose around, see if she could get some information about Samuel and her mother. But where to start? She didn’t want to just randomly approach people and pepper them with questions. That would only make her look suspect, for sure. So how did she make it appear as if she were like everyone else in this town? Laughter drew her attention and she realized the community center—the seeming hub of the town—was alive and teeming with people.
Must be some kind of shindig going down tonight, she surmised. What better way to get involved than to jump in with both feet, right?
Absolutely.
She walked straight to the community center and filed in with everyone else.
Bo Fargo stood at the door of the community center at his usual post as people, smiling and laughing like the sheep they were, walked into the center for the nightly meeting. Bo nodded in greeting to a few but otherwise kept his expression neutral. It was no good to get too personal with these people because he never wanted to have to make a choice between loyalty to Samuel and his own feelings for someone else.
A woman—someone he didn’t know—walked by, her eyes scanning the crowd without recognition, plainly a newcomer. Not bad on the eyes, she was a brunette with a nice butt and just the kind of rack Samuel preferred. Maybe his hunting expedition wouldn’t be so difficult, after all. Newcomers were easy picking. They were eager to please, blinded by Samuel’s charisma and charm, and usually ridiculously flattered and awestruck that Samuel wanted to spend time with them. His mouth twitched with a smile. Good. Now that he had his quarry selected, he could put a plan into action. Knowing that part of his assignment was completed, his mind wandered to his own desires. It’d been a while since he’d bedded a woman. Maybe tonight he’d find one of his regular lays, women who didn’t mind spreading their legs for a lit
tle extra favor in Bo’s regard, and ease up on some of the tension that seemed to ride him harder than any of the women he picked up.
Speaking of which, Brenda Billings tried to walk by without being noticed, but he snagged her arm before she could get away.
“Nice to see you, Brenda,” he said, rubbing his thumb along her forearm, communicating his intent without having to spell it out for everyone to hear. She ducked her head and nodded with a slight tremble of her lip. “I haven’t seen you around. Everything okay?” he asked, not truly caring, but he liked to give the appearance of a protector. “I’ve missed your pretty face at the meetings.” The only reason he’d noted her absence was because he was horny and she was the best of his little stable of regulars. He liked the way her little body squirmed beneath the weight of his and the way she let him do unspeakably dirty things to her without complaint.
“I…I’ve been sick,” she said, pulling her arm free with a quick glance around to see if anyone had seen their exchange. He narrowed his stare. What happened to his docile Brenda? He didn’t dare draw too much attention here at the center, but he gave Brenda a look that promised a return to the subject later. “I have to get my seat,” she said, moving away with a halfhearted promise, “I’ll talk with you later.”
“I look forward to it,” he said under his breath.
Thrown off focus for a moment and his mood soured by Brenda’s subtle rejection, he stalked from his post and into the hall, where he tried to find the woman he’d seen earlier.
He found her, interestingly enough, sitting not far from Brenda.
Perfect. Now he could watch them both. His mood improved, but only once he envisioned having both women service him the way he knew Samuel did with his women. Samuel could get away with that because he was handsome, charismatic and powerful. Bo knew his place in the world. The only reason women allowed him between their thighs was because he was Samuel’s muscle. Without Samuel, he’d have nothing. It wasn’t the way he’d imagined his life at this point in his career, but he wasn’t the type to cry in his beer about what could’ve been. And right now, he wanted Brenda.
Whether she wanted him or not.
Darcy settled in her seat, a little bit in awe of the turnout for the nightly meeting. When she’d heard that the community met every night for some inspirational blah blah by Samuel, she’d expected a small contingent of people—maybe diehards—to show up. Not the whole freaking town!
Her reaction must’ve been noted, for the person beside her tapped her lightly and said with a friendly smile, “Amazing, isn’t it?”
Startled, she swung her gaze to the woman beside her and jerked a short nod, temporarily at a loss for words or maybe just words that weren’t laced with the extreme discomfort she felt by being surrounded by obvious cult members. “I had no idea there were so many…um…devoted people,” she finally said, eliciting a soft chuckle from the woman who had subsequently introduced herself as Pam Donnelly. “So, what happens at these meetings that’s so special?”
“Oh honey, having a nightly meeting is just one of the many ways Mr. Grayson keeps our community strong. When you’re not connected to your neighbor, it’s easy to let outside influences color your thinking. Mr. Grayson is all about health and clean living, morally, financially and ethically. Even environmentally! He’s a visionary, to be sure.” She lifted her exorbitantly expensive tonic-water bottle. “Did you purchase a bottle?”
Flushing in embarrassment, she shook her head. “I didn’t realize it was required.”
“That’s okay, honey. Just pick one up on the way out. Sales from the tonic water help keep our town special. Did you notice how clean our streets are? How fresh and new the playground equipment is?”
“Yes, actually, I did notice,” Darcy answered, remembering how creepy it had seemed even though, admittedly, on the surface, clean streets shouldn’t seem disturbing, but they were. And when coupled with everything Darcy had begun to learn about Cold Plains, it added up to weird. “It’s great,” she lied with a smile. “Cold Plains is so amazing.”
Pam beamed, happy with her response. “Have you met with Mr. Grayson yet? He likes to personally greet all newcomers to Cold Plains. Oh, and you’re going to love him. He’s very handsome but it’s more than that. He’s… I don’t know how to describe it. He makes you feel as if you’re the most important person in the room. Heck, in the world,” she gushed.
Darcy fought the urge to raise her brow. “He sounds like a very interesting person,” she said. “Maybe I’ll meet him tonight. Do I have to make an appointment?”
Pam smiled coyly and said something that chilled Darcy’s blood. “It’s likely he already knows about you. Mr. Grayson knows everything that goes on in his town.”
Darcy couldn’t resist. “That doesn’t seem a little…intrusive? I mean, people like a certain amount of privacy, right?”
“Well, honey, it’s not like you’re being spied on in the restroom.” Pam chuckled. “But a close community is a connected community, that’s what Mr. Grayson says. Oh, and that reminds me, did you get your health screening over at the urgent-care clinic? It’s not required, but it’s certainly looked upon with favor if you plan to put down roots here in town.”
“A health screening?”
“Oh yes, it’s very beneficial. When I had mine, I was a little overweight. Not now. Just look at me.” She gestured to her figure. “No lumps or rolls any longer and I feel great. Not that you have that problem, dear. You have a lovely figure. Mr. Grayson will certainly approve.”
It was the way Pam said it that made Darcy feel a little ill. Of course the woman had no way of knowing she was Samuel’s daughter, but even so, something about earning Samuel’s approval in any way made Darcy want to do something outlandishly reckless so there was no way he would ever approve. Maybe it was some long-buried need to rebel against the absent father figure in her life, but thankfully, self-preservation won out, and she wisely continued to smile and nod. “Well, I work for Dr. Black now, so perhaps he could do my health screening for me,” she said but was surprised when Pam shook her head.
“Oh no, honey. It has to be at the clinic,” she said firmly. “Dr. Black is a nice man but he’s not completely committed yet, so it’s best to conduct your important business at the clinic. But don’t worry, they have the best of everything there. You couldn’t be in better hands. In fact, just last week I had a dark sunspot removed from my shoulder that could’ve turned cancerous, and I barely have a scar from the laser.”
“If it wasn’t cancerous, why’d you have it removed? I’ve heard those lasers are painful.”
Pam laughed and waved away her statement. “It was so ugly. A little pain was worth getting rid of it. Besides, I wouldn’t want Mr. Grayson to think I wasn’t being health conscious by letting a little pain stand in my way.” The lights dimmed, signaling the start of the presentation, and Pam became giddy as a schoolgirl with a crush. “Ohh, here he comes.” The way Pam’s eyes lit up, Darcy amended her assessment. Pam did have a crush on Samuel. Gross.
She focused on the stage, determined this time not to faint. She wanted to get a good look at the man who had fathered her.
And possibly killed her mother.
Chapter 8
Rafe purposefully grabbed a beer even though Samuel frowned on alcohol use, another passive-aggressive snub at Samuel on Rafe’s part, and cracked it open with a long sigh for an equally long day. After double-checking doors and windows—he’d never been this paranoid before moving to Cold Plains—he settled into the high-backed leather chair stationed at his desk and pulled the photo of Devin from his wallet. He kept it with him, gaining a modicum of comfort having his image near, even though logically he knew it was an illusion. He didn’t know if his son was alive, whether he was being cared for or whether he was being abused in some dark basement. He tried not to let his mind wander on most days, but tonight, fatigue weakened his mental walls and fear ate him.
He’d put a few careful calls ou
t today, asking about Abby and her role in Samuel’s life before she disappeared. So far, he’d gotten nothing. Sure, they remembered the woman, but no one remembered her being pregnant or if she’d been dating Samuel.
Not that Samuel dated. He selected beautiful women to “mentor,” which seemed a code for screwing their brains out at his convenience. He hated to think Abby had been one of his mentorees, but there was a reason Abby was eliminated, and that was the only reason Rafe could think of that would’ve put her in danger.
But then her pregnancy would’ve shown at some point, and he highly doubted Samuel would’ve been aroused by a pregnant woman. Was her pregnancy the reason she’d incurred his wrath? For all his matchmaking and supposed, professed love for families, he was particularly averse to children and babies. Of course this was something only his closest inner circle knew, and Rafe had only discovered this fact from a seemingly innocuous statement a patient had made one day.
“You know what I like most about Samuel Grayson?” Melissa Pedersen had stated one day during a wellness check for her pregnancy. Melissa was a mother of four already, with the bun in the oven making six because she was carrying twins. “He doesn’t pretend to be something he’s not,” she said, smoothing her hand over her large belly. “You know how politicians are always hugging and kissing kids that aren’t theirs, just to give off the impression they’re everyday kind of guys just like you?” Rafe nodded, curious as to where this was going. “But I think he’s perfectly fine admitting babies—or pregnant women—just aren’t his thing.”
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